"Only harrowing."
Elizabeth mused a little while.
"And how much will the wheat be worth, Winthrop, from all this field?"
"Perhaps two hundred dollars; or two hundred and fifty."
"Two hundred and fifty. — And then the expenses are something."
"Less to us," said Winthrop, "because we do so much of the labour ourselves."
"Here's your dinner, Winthrop," said Winifred; — "shall I set it under the tree?"
"Yes — no, Winifred, — you may leave it here."
"Then stop and eat it now, Governor, won't you? — don't wait any longer."
He gave his little sister a look and a little smile, that told of an entirely other page of his life, folded in with the ploughing experience; a word and look very different from any he had given his questioners. Other indications Elizabeth's eye had caught under 'the tree,' — a single large beech tree which stood by the fence some distance off. Two or three books lay there.